


Retrieve my soul

by SkyOfDust



Series: Take my soul [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Fenders, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-22
Updated: 2016-10-22
Packaged: 2018-08-24 01:18:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8350672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyOfDust/pseuds/SkyOfDust
Summary: Years after Kirkwall, Fenris still sticks on Anders.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone.  
> It's been a while.  
> I'm back with the end of the series Take my soul. I hope you'll like it.

Fenris looked up at the stars and sighed. Sometimes, he was crushed by melancholia without knowing why. Maybe because of the past, because of the future, because the world seemed beautiful and yet it was on fire. He had followed Anders to the end of the world, fleeing with him, protecting him in the war between the mages and the templars. They'd watched the Inquisition grow in Ferelden, heard news from Hawke and Varric, who helped the Inquisitor bringing peace across Thedas. Justice had long wanted to take part in the fight, but Anders' regrets of what happened in Kirkwall had eased the demon's anger. Now Anders was trying to make amends, always on the road to help those who were wounded by the war. Fenris didn't fight anymore. He once sided the mages for the last battle and could not repeat such a mistake. And Anders understood. It was the first time they reached an agreement. It had taken a destroyed chantry and a new war to understand that their view on the mages' plight was to evolve. Constantly.

Fenris had forgiven, but not forgotten. He still remembered that his lover started the war. But while Anders regretted killing innocents in the Chantry and found comfort in the idea of the mages' rebellion, Fenris didn't mind the sacrifice – he who killed so many to gain his freedom – and was angry to see all the blood mages finally free.

Somehow, through their constant bickering, they found love. Because their relationship was even stronger than they could ever have imagined. Fenris smiled on the way back to their camp, a basket full of food in hand. He'd prepare a good meal for his lover tonight.

Anders worked just as hard as before, denying his own health. It was on Fenris that lied the responsibility of the healer's life. Does he sleep enough, does he eat enough, share the tent, share the heart, the nightmares, the memories. Share the hatred, share the love. Sometimes it got very complicated between them. But Anders never fled, and Fenris stayed.

Finally, Fenris saw the campfire not far ahead and quickened his pace, until he reached the camp. Anders was standing nearby, looking at the forest near the valley they were camping in.

“Amatus, I brought food.”

Anders only sighed, standing firmly in front of the trees, as if they held a secret that needed to be discovered.

“Mage?”

“I often wondered what happened to my soul. If I got one when I was born with magic. If I lost it when I fled the Circle. If I gave it to a spirit of Justice. Or if I corrupted it with the Taint. You've seen the worse in me, love.”

“And I've seen the good in you too.”

“I fled the Circle alone. I left my friends there and fled alone. Seven times. I joined the Wardens to escape the Circle, and then I abandoned them. I saved Justice only because he could save my life. And I killed innocents for my own purpose. I've always been selfish.”

“Don't be silly, Amatus. You're the most selfless person I've ever met, ready to die for his friends and his believes.”

Fenris took a step forward, examining his lover's silhouette. Arms crossed on his chest, standing straight, hair loose, he seemed different. Usually, he was by the fire, making potions or counting the bandages, the poultices, sitting in the mud, harassed, tired, as if the whole world was heavy on his shoulders.

“Now I see. I can read in myself. Was there one single thing I did out of compassion?”

“You keep helping people, all day long!”

“Just in order to make amends, to retrieve my soul. Selfish desires.”

“What is it with you tonight?”

“I leave, Fenris. And you're not coming with me. Not this time.”

“Anders!”

Anders sighed, and then turned on his heels. He came closer, entering the firelight, revealing what was torturing him. Black veins on very pale skin, dead eyes, white pupils. The time had come. If Fenris was asked, he'd say they were given very few years. Not enough. Wandering, helping, laughing, crying, bickering, kissing. Living. Loving.

“I feel it under my skin, love. I am evil.”

Fenris' heart hammered in his chest as he took one step closer, raising a hand as if to touch Anders' cheek. But he was still too far away and the warrior didn't have the strength to get closer. Not if he had to let him go afterwards.

“I hear the Blight, I feel the Taint. I am evil. I've always been.”

Fenris remembered that day he stopped hating the mage  and what he said, the words that carved themselves in his heart.

“You're not evil. You like flowers in the spring. And the laugh of a child in the dark streets of Dartown. You like looking at the sky when it rains and at the dust in the sun. You like the touch of other lips on yours, and the way your heart beats so fast when you think about it. You're not evil, Amatus. You're broken. And your soul is still pure.”

Anders smiled, tilted his head, before he retrieve d his staff near the fire and headed to the road.

“Goodbye, love” he said without turning around.

He surely feared he would lose his strength if he gave one last look to Fenris. Very few years they were given. Were they wasted? Fenris thought at those cold night s when Anders would curl up against Fenris' chest,  sighing happily, at those shiny days spent on the road, admiring the landscape s , sharing kisses, sharing secrets, bickering, apologizing, smiling. All the people they met, all the people they helped. Sharing stew near the campfire, reading a book with a cup of hot tea, mocking Varric's last romance. They often imagined the life of their friends. Isabela in Rivaini, on her pirate boat, stealing relics and selling them. Merrill, lost in a big city, admiring flowers and clouds from where she stood. Aveline, watching over Kirkwall, hunting bandits and fighting giant spiders. Varric, playing Wicked Grace with the Inquisitor. Hawke, always the hero. And then there was Anders, heading to the Deep Roads to meet his fate. What was Fenris supposed to do now?

He watched his lover's silhouette disappear between the trees. Was he supposed to follow him to meet his end as well? Did he love him that much? Did he himself had a soul that would join Anders' in some kind of afterlife? If they both had a soul, their love was  never-ending.

Fenris took an apple in the basket and ran to the trees, until he saw Anders. He tossed the apple, that hit the mage 's  head. The apostate stopped and turned.

“You little piece of Bronto shit!” Fenris screamed. “I told you! I told you if you ever left me I'd kill you!”

“Fenris. Don't.”

Fenris didn't listen. He followed Anders until the end. They fought until the end. But before death could claim them, they joined their hands, certain their souls would always find each other.


End file.
